


Those Who Wander

by Nightingale_Rising



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF! Bilbo, I swear this is a happy story, M/M, Pining, This AU needed to be made, Thorin is a zombie, Warm Bodies AU, Zombie Hunter Bilbo Baggins, becuase I can, if this goes over well I'll prob write a Bilbo POV, so is Dwalin, so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4026469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingale_Rising/pseuds/Nightingale_Rising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What am I doing with my life? I'm so Pale. I should get out more. I should eat better. My Posture is terrible. I should stand up straighter. People would respect me more if I stood up straighter. What's wrong with me? I just want to connect. Why can't I connect with people?<br/>Oh Right.<br/>It's because I'm dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Name Is Thorin

**Author's Note:**

> The Warm Bodies AU You didn't ask for but now you know you need. Currently unbetaed so I apologize for any mistakes.

“I am dead, but it's not so bad. I've learned to live with it.”   
― [Isaac Marion](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1302285.Isaac_Marion),  _[Warm Bodies](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/10090210)_

Lately I have been blessed with an abundance of free time to do nothing but wonder what the fuck I’m doing with my life. When you spend your days mostly shuffling around the airport there isn’t much else to do. I should go out more. When was the last time I even left? A week? More? I barely have any concept of time anymore. It feels like everything has just boiled down to shuffling around, eating, and having an existential crisis.

I slump way too much. Sometimes I can almost hear a soft voice scolding me to stand up straighter, people would respect me more if I stood up straighter. Not that I’m trying to earn anyone’s respect these days. Hell I can’t even connect to people. Why can’t I connect?

Oh, right.

It’s because I’m dead.

I shouldn’t be too hard on myself. We’re all dead. This girl’s dead, that guy’s dead. That guy in the corner is definitely dead.

Anyways my name is Thorin, not that it really matters in anymore. Corpse don’t exactly go around introducing themselves.  I don’t have a last name or a family, not one I can remember anymore that is. I can’t remember a lot of things, like what I used to do. Although if I had to guessed based on the long hair and beard I’d go with unemployed. Old too, if my salt and pepper hair was anything too go buy. 

I would like to say I didn’t care, why should I really? But to the honest, it get boring shuffling around the airport day in and day out. I need some kind of hobby. Mine has become wondering what happened. I would look to people and wonder what they used to be. A writer, a janitor, a candlestick maker. And, now a corpse. I haven’t worked out what happened yet, if it was some kind of chemical warfare or a virus, it’s not like I can just google it to find out. How we got here doesn’t change the fact this is how it is now. Shuffling around, bumping into too things, unable to apologize.

Although, to be honest I have a feeling that even if when I could, I didn’t apologize a whole lot.

There’s a lot of us gathered here. Maybe because the airport is a place to wait, I think that’s why I’m here. I couldn’t tell you what I’m waiting for, the end, more food. Whatever it was I hope it does something to change up the monotony. For now I waited, and shuffled along. Occasionally shifting my course to avoid the groups of Boneyes. They always freaked me out, yeah that may be a strange thing for a corpse to say but, those guys will eat anything with a heartbeat. I mean, I will too but at least I feel torn up about it.  Nor does being dead too make it any easier to know that one day I’ll become one of them too. Nothing but anger management issues and rotting skin stretched over bone.  We all became Boneyes someday, we give up, lose hope. I would likely be one soon, I already had the angry part down.

I can see why people give up, sometimes I’m ready to. I’m lonely, I’m lost.

Literally lost, I’ve never been to this part of the airport before. You would think living in this damn place would give me a better idea of where I was and yet here I am lost…again.

Huh, I didn’t know this airport had a Panda Express.

A discovery of a fourth Starbucks (why did we have so many? The Airport wasn’t even that big.) later, I ran into my best friend. By that I mean we occasionally grunt and stare awkwardly at each other. I was always drawn to him, I think I might have known him before I died, and there was something about him that was too familiar. Or I could have meet him after I died and forgotten, I’m dead what do I know?

His name is… okay I have no clue what his name is. He grunted some word that might have been his name when we first meet. Something that started with “D”, alternately he could have just be calling me a dick.  One thing I was sure of about my life was that I wasn’t the most pleasant of people. “D” didn’t seem to care, or at least he kept any complaints to himself in our almost conversations.

That’s what passes for friendship when your dead, grunting and almost conversations. Maybe going out, chewing off someone’s arm together. If we’re feeling like it, leaving the brain behind when we eat someone. You see, that’s how people become like us, leave the brain and they rise up from the dead. We take them hope and introduce them to everyone, or whatever you want to call grunting at the new comer. Strangely it doesn’t feel as weird as it sounds.

Maybe I’ve just been dead to long.

The friendships mean little to us. I don’t know of a single corpse who would try and save me from getting a hole in my head and I don’t think I’d do  the same for any of them.

Well, maybe “D”, but “D” is my best friend.

 Sure, we travel in packs it’s just made sense. We all shared a taste in food, and with every one and their grandmother out to put a bullet in your head it’s nice to have numbers. So every few days, or maybe it was weeks or months, we would all stumble out of the airport together. Heading for the nearest city; slowly, god we move so damn slow.

Little did I know that this time wouldn’t be just a normal food run, but I could have never expected Bilbo Baggins. Not that I expected to still be stumbling around after I died either but let me tell you, somehow Bilbo Baggins managed to be more shocking then coming back from the dead with a hankering for human flesh.


	2. At First Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now our heros meet for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may have noticed there was a chapter two up for like a day that was a wrong version. I really wanted this up sooner but I have been on vacation and largely with out a steady wifi connection since the 27th~  
> Enjoy (the now correct) chapter two super super late.  
> As always betaed by the lovely Jay~

“Planning ahead is not a great human virtue.”

-K. A. Applegate, The Experiment

This is the part I always hated. I don’t like hurting people, but that’s how the world is. The hunger drives you until there is nothing left. You lose hope, you lose yourself, you become a boney, and you die…again. Some part of me loved the trill of the fight, but it was always lost when I once again had to look at the body of someone I had killed.

We had made it into the city in hopes of catching stray humans. Not many of them came around anymore, at this rate we would all have to leave the airport in search for food if we wanted to survive.  That is, assuming you could call whatever this life is surviving. We got lucky this time; a whole group of humans were in the city. They hardly stood a chance, we made up for our overall lack of speed with sheer numbers and the fact that only head shots brought us down.

I grabbed the human nearest to me, snapping his neck in one quick motion. I wish I could say I did it to spare him the pain but, if I’m honest with myself, it is at least in part due to the fact it’s easier to eat something that isn’t fighting back.

Now, I don’t have to eat all of him, If I leave his brain he’ll rise up and become like me. The brain however, is the best part. You eat it and you get the memories and emotions. When I eat it for just a moment I can feel almost human again. Even if it’s nothing but the hollow echo of emotion. I ignored my fellows falling around me, and all of the fighting. All I wanted was a chance for that brain.  I don’t want to hurt people. I just want to feel a little less dead.

The effects started the instant I sank my teeth into the flesh:

_Happiness, excitement, ‘Come on now, we’ll be late’, a swell of affection, love?, the sweet sounds of laughter , a pair of bright green eyes._

In an instant it was over, just like every other time , lasting only as long as the brain was on my tongue, stolen away far too quickly. I dove back in, desperate for more, just one more moment able to feel something.

_Longing, ‘What has this world come to?’, sorrow, a pair of warm arms wrapped around me, safe, warm, home, love, ‘It’s not so bad with you here.’ Golden curls, a smile brighter than the sun._

_I love you Bilbo’, ‘I- I’m sorry’ heart break, sorrow, a hand on mine, ‘Friends?’ that bright smile once again, ‘friends.’ Bittersweet._

I was jerked violently from the memory as something blasted me back from the body. A few remaining chunks of brain fell from my hands in surprise more than anything else. Corpses don’t feel pain after all - even pains of the heart. And I had been shot through the heart, by one of the few humans who had not managed to escape yet.

_Bilbo Baggins._

His face looked different, twisted into a scowl rather than the bright smile from the memory but I had no doubt it was him. He was frantically trying to reload his shot gun, his fingers fumbling over the mechanics, golden curls glued to his forehead.

There was a twist in my chest at the horror on his face, and I can’t help but feel that if my heart still beat it would have stopped in that moment. “Bil-bo” I rasped.

The gun dropped from his hands at that, giving me a chance to start crawling to him, tucking the rest of the brain into my hoodie as I crawled to him. Bilbo’s breaths came in heavy pants as I drew closer, leaning as far back as the cabinet he was pressed against would allow him.

In that moment, crouched in front of a man whom I now knew from a few hazy memories, did I decide to do something very stupid. As in, if you were to make a list of the most stupid things ever done in the history of mankind, it would land somewhere above invading Russia in winter and some were below the _Avatar: the Last Air Bender_ movie.

I reached out one gore covered hand to his face covering his cheek.  His breath quickened at that, almost loud enough to start gaining the attention of the others. I held one finger to my lips. “Shh,” I said “Safe…come.” For once, it didn’t matter how few words I was able to say. I didn’t even know why I was doing this. Bringing a living person home? No one had ever done that before!  I knew how terrible of an idea it was, but I couldn’t leave him behind. I didn’t know what it was but I had to bring him back with us.

I pulled Bilbo to his feet, dragging him to join the rest of us and we moved back to the airport. I tried to speak to him a few times, my words only coming out as garbled moans. Bilbo was smart enough to understand that I needed him to keep quiet. If he screamed and tried to draw the attention of the humans, he would be dead in an instant. The one time we can be fast it seems is when food is on the line.

The stiffness in his posture and gait never left him. Not even when I lead him up into the old jet I called home. It was a small haven for me. A place where I could lay back among the things I had collected. Books, movies, and even an old record player. Some days I would fill it with music and lay back and try to remember what it felt like to be human.

“What do you want?” Bilbo asked in a quiet voice pulling me out of my thoughts.  He was posed, ready to fight or run.  I had to be very careful about what I said if I didn’t want another fight on my hands.

“N-not e-e-eat.”

Oh Mahal, why couldn’t I just speak, it would solve almost this entire Charlie Foxtrot. In a desperate attempt to try to get my point across I pointed to my teeth, clanking them together a few times while shaking my head. “K-keep safe.”

Bilbo relaxed a fraction staring at me like I was some sort of puzzle he was trying to solve. Which I guess I was. A corpse who had just taken him home with promises not to eat him. I shot Bilbo what I hopped could still pass as a reassuring smile before sliding into the seat across from him.  I may not be, nor have I ever been, the master of social interactions, but I knew when a guy needed his space.  It was a good thing I had saved some brain in my pocket; it would be just enough to keep me busy while Bilbo adjusted.

_The wind blowing through my hair, A beautiful tree filled landscape. “It’s so strange.” Bilbo’s voice again. Bilbo leaning against the window watching the trees pass. “The world has ended for us and it’s like nature didn’t get the memo, it just keeps on being beautiful. ”My heart ached for the old days, before the dead started walking, a world with less fear and where humanity had more than the beauty of nature and a tiny spark of hope._

I felt stunned as the memory slipped away. They had never been that detailed on instance before. It was always nothing more than rushes of emotions. Desperate for another hit, I tore into the brain again, not caring of how it may affect Bilbo.

_“Come on Bilbo.” I said grabbing his hand dragging him through the field. “Let’s go see your mom.”_

_Sometimes she gets too busy to check in for weeks, I’m sure it’s fine.” Bilbo said. However the way his lips where pressed together and a thin line and the set of the brow I was sure he thought it was anything but fine._

_Humor me?” Bilbo nodded. He worked so hard not to worry, after all it’s not as if we lived very long anymore, and let himself be dragged to the other side of the wall._

_The wall was an ugly thing, tall and long cutting through nature. But it was necessary, it kept the dead out and the living in. A cage of our own making._

_We had walked for some time when we found them, all milling around. Instantly I knew something was off. They didn’t walk, they shuffled, every move jerkily and unnatural.. “Mom?” Bilbo called._

_“Bilbo.” I whispered grabbing his sleeve and started to drag him back,” I wanted to scream. To run to do anything to just get far away from here._

_One figure turned, a chunk missing from her neck, her eyes dead and hallow._

_Bilbo we have to go.” I said urgently willing my legs to move and trying to drag Bilbo back with me._

_The cry that ripped through his throat when what was once his mother launched at him was the most horrifying thing I have ever head. Bilbo barely had the time to draw his gun  before his mother ripped out his throat._

                I felt like I had be doused with ice water the moment I resurfaced from the memory. I half expected to still feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest.  For someone who looked more like a grocer then a zombie hunter he handled his mother's turning far better the one would guess. The mother he had to kill. No wonder he was afraid of me.  I would be too.

 I need a different tactic.

 A quick glace over revealed Bilbo to be huddled against the wall, shivering. Tears where falling down his face, but he was still posed and ready to fight. I stood and he shifted raising what looked to be the arm rest of one of the chairs.

Careful to stay out of striking distance, I opened the overhead compartment pulling down one of the blankets I had stored there. Okay, I can do this, don’t be creepy, don’t be creepy.

As slowly as I could, I fluffed out the blanket, handing it out to Bilbo.

“What are you doing?”

Well, that’s a great question Bilbo.

What am I doing? I brought a human home, because… I don’t even know. How about you tell me what it is about you that I couldn’t leave you behind?

I didn’t say any of that. I only held out the blanket to him again. Slowly he took it. Clutching the tattered fabric to his chest. “Why did you save me?”

“Do-don’t cry….Safe…Keep you safe.”

Look at that. A little work and I had just managed to make a full sentence. 

Bilbo frowned at this and for a wild moment I was worried I had somehow said the wrong thing. But, Bilbo only rubbed the tears from his eyes and asked, “What are you?”

I shrugged, I wasn’t so sure what I was anymore. No corpse would have taken someone back, or could form full sentences. Something was changing in me and I was willing to bet Bilbo was the root of it.

“Whatever you are, you’re going to need to let me go. I’m hungry, I need food.”

How can he think of food in a time like this? I know the living need to eat more than us, but surely they could go more than a few hours without a meal.

“I really need food,” he added. “Please.”

I nodded after a few failed attempts to say “Okay.” I really needed to work harder on this whole communication thing. Maybe I could write something down? Could I still write? I had lost most of my dexterity long ago, as well as most of my reading skills for that matter.

I had almost reached the airport when I remembered one key thing I forgot about. Bilbo.

He was already out of the jet and sprinting across the tarmac when I turned back. He stopped at the next plane ducking behind the landing gears. That’s when I spotted what made him hide. Several dozen corpses walking to his hiding spot. Oh, this was not going to end well at all.

I made it to Bilbo before the others. Bilbo gave me a harsh glare as I approached motioning at me to move away. I hadn’t listen to my own logic up to this point so I didn’t see much point in listening to Bilbo. “Told you n-n-not safe.” I hissed when I was in earshot.

“No shit, Sherlock,” he hissed peaking around the wheel, to check the gathering crowd of the dead. “So what do we do?”

Oh, yes, ask the dead guy, because he has had so many good ideas up until this point. A trend that was continuing as my only idea was to do what I did before. I gathered some of the gunk from my wounds reaching out for Bilbo who shifted back instantly.

“Again?”

I nodded and he sighed quietly, allowing me to brush to gunk on to his face.  “Be…dead.” I told him taking a step out from under the plane. As an, example I groaned shuffling forward. It was a simple enough plan one that had worked once before. I just didn’t count on one thing; Bilbo was a terrible actor.

He hissed and sputtered far too loudly as he shuffled forward.

“T-too much,” I corrected. The result was not too much of an improvement, but it was good enough to pass. We were able to walk right past the entire group of corpses unnoticed.

“I really am hungry though.”

If I could have, I would have screamed.

*~*~*

Bilbo had managed to find several cans of food on our detour through the food court. Everything he had opened back on the jet didn’t seem appealing at all to me. Must be a living thing. While he was eating I went back to the jet’s kitchen bringing him a back a beer.

It happened to be the first good idea I had had all day, as Bilbo actually cracked a smile when he saw it, quickly popping it open on the arm rest.

“You can’t be that bad, Mr. Zombie,” he said after downing almost the entire beer in one gulp.

“My name…” I started only to have my own name get mangled coming out. I really need to find a better way to communication.

Bilbo raised an eyebrow leaning in closer, as if he thought my name was written on my face. “You have a name? What is it?”

“Th-Thor…in.”

“Thorin.” He repeated, the smile coming back once again. It wasn’t like the one in the memories. It didn’t have the same brightness. this smile was soft and didn’t quite reach the shadows in his eyes. “I want to go home, Thorin.”

No! No he couldn't do that. He had just got here. I needed him to figure out just what was going on. I shook. my head as furiously as I can managed.

“Not s-safe,” I said.

Don’t look at me like that. It wasn't a total lie. It wasn’t very safe here.

“I get that,” he said softly, “-and thank you for saving my life, but I walked in here just fine. So I plan to walk out the same.”

Oh, Mahal, why couldn’t I have picked up a dumb one. A nice, pretty, dumb one who didn’t think things through like that, and just listed to me?

“H-have to wait. They-they notice.” Not bad.

Bilbo huffed, sinking deeper into his chair. “How long?”

“F-few d-days. They’ll for- forget.”

Bilbo leaned in again, studying my face. I shrunk back slightly under his scrutiny. What was he doing?

“Are there others like you? We always get told that once you've been bitten, you’re totally gone. I’ve never meet any corpse able to talk and tell me otherwise, so I always just assumed.” I shrugged, letting Bilbo poke my cheek and then my arm.

By the way he sighed and flopped back into his chair, I assumed he didn’t find whatever he was looking for. “So a few days huh? What am I supposed to do around here for a few days?"

 

               

 

               

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like Bagginsheild and Supernatural trash I can be found on Tumblr as Orions-nightingale  
> I'm also looking for a Beat for this and a Mulan!AU if anyone is interested. Maybe it will help me actually get to writing more, I've been meaning to write this AU for months now.


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